On The Way
by RubieVroom
Summary: Follow-up fic to "Deception". Reid and Prentiss follow Lester's trail of bodies to England, where more dangers await them and their new ally.
1. Chapter 1

_(So I was pleasantly surprised by the number of people who asked for a sequel to "Deception", thanks for reading and reviewing it._

_I hope you'll enjoy this as well. _

_It's pretty much essential to read the first part to follow._

_There's no time-jump between this story and the previous one)._

* * *

_Spring is on the way; summer is on the way; storms are on the way; wars are on the way._

_Sorrow and happiness are on the way; they are all on the way, they are coming! _

_Everything is on the way! _

_Life is a highway; while we are moving on the way, all else is coming towards us! _

_Devil is on the way; angel is on the way! _

_Stay firm on the way! _

Mehmet Murat ildan

* * *

For a moment neither of them talked. But while Reid was hoping to silently express his gratitude for commiserating with him, she looked uneasy, as if she was thinking of the best way to phrase something.

"Something tells me you didn't come here just for moral support", he said.

She played with the zipper of her bag and finally took a file out of it and handed it to him.

"Actually I came to give you this".

Inside was the picture of a young woman and he recognized it as the type of photographs the M.E takes before an autopsy, although the cause of death wasn't evident in the picture.

"She died about 12 years ago, she was found strangled in her boyfriend's apartment", Prentiss said.

"Did the boyfriend do this?", Reid asked, not quite seeing where she was going with this.

"No he had a solid alibi; police cleared him immediately because he wasn't even in London when she died".

"Wait, she died in London?", he asked, surprised.

"Yeah, back in 2003, and the case is still open", she nodded, "and when and where she died is particularly relevant in this case…Guess who was going to the same school during that time".

"Lester?", he asked, reading his way through the case file.

"She spent two semesters there on boarding school, and she left two days after the murder", she said.

"Convenient", he agreed, "how come we didn't uncover that during our initial background check?".

"INTERPOL's database covers more ground. But Lester was never a suspect, she was only 16 then", Prentiss said.

"How did you make the connection?".

"Look at the victim's name", she said, pointing to the file.

"Elizabeth Dickson".

"Lizzie Dickson", she nodded with a sad smile.

"It's one of the pseudonyms Lester used during the robberies", he said.

"That was pretty reckless of her, linking herself to the crime like that".

"It's pride. She couldn't take credit for it back then but now she wants us to know what she did", he explained, "I don't see how this helps me though".

"It doesn't", she admitted, "but when I looked into this, I came across something else. Two weeks ago, a teenage girl went missing from the same school Lester and Lizzie Dickson went to; the father received a ransom demand, 15.000£ for his daughter's life. Three days ago there was a second abduction, another teenage girl; she went to a different private school than this one though, but she was returned for the same amount".

"You think Lester's involved in this?", he asked.

"The girls appeared to have been both tased and drugged. The second victim, Allison Moore, couldn't remember anything of the last 24 hours".

"It sounds familiar", Reid said darkly.

"And we know she likes to operate on her own turf. She goes to places she feels connected to, first South America, and now London", she said with some excitement, "that's where you need to go, Reid. To finally put an end to this".

Her optimism was contagious, and for a moment he felt just as keen as she was to get there, until doubt and caution took over.

"How do you expect me to get there Emily? I can't just grab a flight in my situation. I don't even have a passport".

"Don't worry about it, I've got everything worked out", she simply said.

"We don't even know for sure that she's there", he persisted.

She reached into her bag again and took out a photograph that she placed in front of him.

"This was taken at Heathrow three weeks ago, right before the kidnappings started", she told him.

Reid recognized Lester immediately in the picture, although she looked as if she was trying to avoid the security camera. Her hair was a lot shorter and brown this time, but he had no doubt that this was her.

Prentiss got up, gathered her things and stared at him.

"Coming?", she asked.

* * *

Prentiss did have everything worked out. A car was waiting outside; it took them to the nearest airport which they reached under an hour.

Her very own plane was waiting for them. "One of the perks of being in charge", she said as they boarded the aircraft.

After takeoff, they started looking at the elements of the case. Spreading autopsy reports and crime scene pictures on the small tables felt like a typical day at the BAU and they both relaxed and allowed themselves to focus on the evidence alone.

"You know, I'm still a little baffled by the way Lizzie Dickson died. Lester strangled her manually, there's a level of violence and intimacy there that isn't a normal component of her M.O. She shoots her victim, she likes to keep a distance with them", Reid said.

"She was a teenager. Serial killers' first crimes are often sloppy, they haven't perfected their yet", Prentiss theorized, "she probably didn't plan this".

"I think having a personal connection to Lizzie is what made her lose control", he said, "Lizzie Dickson had the perfect life, her family was wealthy, she was close to her parents, popular in school..".

"Meanwhile Lester went from one home to another, she suffered abuse from her stepfather and her mother eventually sent her abroad to get her out of her hair…I can see her killing Lizzie in a jealous rage", she nodded, "maybe that's also why the victimology of the kidnappings is similar. She goes after young girls with everything to live for, that's not by accident".

"You didn't tell me that the first girl she kidnapped died", Reid said, going through the files.

"Sarah Grimes", Prentiss nodded, "she never showed up to her morning class. The father got a note a few hours later, ordering him to wire the ransom to an offshore account. But the Scotland Yard inspector who handled the case advised the father not to pay the ransom because the kidnapper didn't send any proof of life. Police thought they'd be able to trace the offshore account back to the kidnapper in time to find her, but the lead fell through, and Sarah was found dead two hours after the deadline".

"She was found floating in the Thames, right?", he asked, looking at the report.

"Yeah, she was dumped a few blocks from where she disappeared as a forensic counter-measure , so I doubt it will help the geographical profile", she explained, "She was stabbed, she wasn't drowned".

"Stabbing isn't part of Lester's M.O".

"No but a water-based dumpsite does point to a female unsub", she said.

"And it probably erased all physical evidence".

"When the second victim disappeared, this was attached to the note", she said, handing him a polaroid picture of a young girl, holding a newspaper.

"Proof of life", he nodded.

"The date on the paper corresponded to the day she disappeared", she explained, "the father made the money transfer and she was returned to the same street she vanished from. There was no sexual assault or any major injuries, only bruises, common with physical restraints".

Reid looked at the polaroid picture, he could imagine Lester taking a sadistic pleasure sending it, knowing what effect it will have on the girl's father.

"The police tried to follow the ransom money, but it travelled from one fiscal paradise to another", Prentiss added.

"Who's handling the case now?", he asked.

"The inspector who handled the first abduction was taken off the case and put on mandatory leave after the police was slammed by the press. They were heavily blamed for the death of the first girl", she said, "Scotland Yard still has the case officially, but INTERPOL was asked to take the lead due to the international money trail, and if Lester's involved then we definitely have a role to play".

"Where do I fit in all of this?", he asked sadly.

"I can't have you on officially", she said apologetically, "but I want you there with me. No one knows this unsub like you do".

Reid nodded and turned to the window.

The only times he'd been out of the country it had been to investigate BAU cases, he'd visited both Canada and Mexico that way. Flying under the radar to investigate murders and kidnappings wasn't the way he envisioned himself seeing London for the first time. Under different circumstances he would have taken one of this tours that retrace the murders of Jack the Ripper, or perhaps caught a Shakespearian play at the Globe theatre.

Some of his sadness must have shown on his face as Prentiss put a hand on his arm and smiled at him.

"Hey, it's going to be okay", she said softly, " you're gonna get your life back, trust me".

* * *

_Urgh, not a fan of that chapter, I feel like I just included as many expositional elements as possible, hopefully the following ones will be more fun. _

_(By the way, I'm French and I'm writing about two Americans investigating crimes in London. So obviously if anything just feels wrong, either about the language (spelling, grammar etc)…or the details of the story, I'd love to hear about it)._


	2. Chapter 2

Reid insisted on seeing the dump site as soon as they got off the plane, on a normal case this is always where the team would start.

They walked along the Thames until they reached the exact spot where Sarah Grimes was spotted, floating in the river.

"She was found in the early morning, she was probably dumped when it was still dark", Prentiss said.

"I doubt anyone witnessed that. This particular street doesn't have any businesses that would have been open at that time", he added, looking around, observing the neighborhood.

"I'm not so sure about that", Prentiss disagreed, nodding towards a group of homeless men, huddled under a nearby bridge.

"I know police canvassed the area, but you're right, they might have missed them".

"I'm on it", she said, walking away from him and towards them.

Reid approached the water, his trainers slipping a little on the wet pavement. For a long time he just stared at the river, somehow hoping that there were answers there that he might be able to transform into something concrete or helpful. The only thing that popped into his mind was a line from a poem, something he thought his mother might have read to him ages ago, although he couldn't recall the title or author.

_"Twenty bridges from Tower to Kew, wanted to know what the River knew…."._

"…For they were young and the Thames was old".

He turned around quickly to see the woman who had completed the poem. He hadn't realized he had been talking to himself.

Looking at her, he thought the weather had suddenly changed from grey and stormy to sunny, because she seemed to be standing in a beam of sunlight whose origin he couldn't pinpoint. He came to the conclusion that her wavy, coppery hair, cascading down her back, was a source of light in itself. She shivered and buried her hands deep in the pockets of her jacket, as if she were cold, but she looked incandescent to him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you", she said, coming closer to stand next to him.

"You didn't. I was just…thinking out loud I guess".

"Is it working?", she asked, gazing at the water as well.

"Working?", he repeated, confused.

"Has the river shared any of her ancient secrets with you yet? Like in the poem", she said with a smile.

He was about to answer when Prentiss returned, shaking her head to indicate that she didn't get anything from the people under the bridge.

"Inspector?", she said, surprised, when she came face to face with her.

Although the woman seemed to know Prentiss personally, she didn't answer, choosing to glance at Reid uncertainly.

"Oh this is Dr. Reid, with the FBI, he's consulting on this case", Prentiss explained uneasily.

She eyed him suspiciously, but didn't ask why he came all the way here or why he didn't present his credentials.

"Delma Jones, C.I.D", she said as she finally shook his hand.

Reid recognized her name from the case files; he knew she had handled the first kidnapping and that it backfired on her when the victim died.

"I thought someone else was leading the investigation now", he said, uncertainly.

He regretted his remark immediately, she seemed to interpret it as the implication that she had failed somehow.

She looked down and shrugged, "Exactly, which means I have a lot of time on my hands. I just thought I'd come out here and have another look around".

They nodded and she relaxed.

Relieved not to be asked to justify herself some more, Delma went on: "Based on where the body was found, I was thinking she must have been dropped from that bridge", she said, pointing to it.

"Makes sense", Prentiss agreed, "it would have been easier to dispose of her from the road up there than by taking the risk to get all the way down to the river and be spotted with the body".

"Not so easy. First they would have had to drag the body from the car, and then heave it above the railing for the body to fall in", Delma said.

"You said "they", you're thinking of a team?", Reid asked.

"Certainly feels like a two-person job to me".

Now that he was thinking about it, Lester was quite petite and he was having trouble imagining her dragging and carrying all this body weight on her own. And this new proximity to her victims had always felt out-of-character to him.

He shared a look with Prentiss who seemed to be thinking along the same lines. Lester had a new partner.

"What?", Delma asked, perhaps feeling left out of this silent realization.

They didn't answer immediately, not knowing how much they could tell her without having to answer a lot of uncomfortable questions too.

"I was there when they pulled her out of the water", the inspector said firmly, sensing their hesitation, "I'd like to see this through".

* * *

They continued their conversation at a nearby restaurant. Delma and Prentiss both felt that they could talk more freely there than at either of their workplaces where they would be overheard.

It took a while for Delma to catch up with them on the elements of the case; they went through everything with her, only omitting Reid's wrongful arrest and subsequent escape.

"I don't understand", she said, after they ordered, "she still has millions of dollars from the bank robberies, why the abductions, why the ransom demands?".

"It takes a lot of money to erase yourself and create a new identity", Prentiss explained, "imagine doing it over and over. Maybe she ran out of it".

"Lester's a psychopath, it's never about the money for her, I think having the power of life and death over the victims is what matters to her", Reid said.

"It would explain why the ransoms are so low", Prentiss agreed.

"You were right", he told Delma, after re-reading Sarah Grimes' autopsy report, "we are looking for two unsubs".

"Unknown subjects", Prentiss clarified as she looked confused.

"The stab wounds seem to indicate that her killer was right-handed. Melinda Lester is left-handed", he said.

Reid had noticed it first when reading her handwriting on the back of the Liberty Bell postcard; she had also favored her left hand every time he'd met her in person.

"There were no hesitation marks though, so I'd say we're looking for someone who's done it before", he added.

"I'm gonna get someone to look for similar homicides, perhaps involving kidnappings too, we might get lucky", Prentiss said, taking her phone out and stepping outside, away from the chatter of the restaurant.

"I wish I had known who I was dealing with earlier", Delma sighed, "I probably wouldn't have talked Sarah Grimes' father out of paying the ransom".

"There aren't any official statistics on extortion kidnappings because victims don't always report them to the police, but when kidnappers don't provide any proof that their captive is still alive, the odds of the person being found unarmed drop considerably, usually it's the sign that the victim died in the struggle during the initial abduction or in captivity", he rambled, "I'm sure you did the best you could with the information that you had".

She seemed relieved to know that the facts were on her side, or perhaps she was comforted by the knowledge that he would have done the same thing in her situation.

"I know", she conceded, "but it didn't make informing Mr. Grimes of his daughter's death any easier".

As she said this, the waiter came back with their food. And Reid took advantage of her looking down at her plate to study her.

He didn't think she could be more than two or three years younger or older than him, and yet in the bright light of the restaurant he could see a twinkle in her deep brown eyes that he'd only ever seen in those of children and always assumed disappeared in the process of growing up.

He couldn't help but feel self-conscious; knowing he probably looked like he desperately needed a shave and haircut. He was thankful for Prentiss' return which gave him a reason to focus on the case instead for the rest of the evening.

* * *

_-If anyone is curious about the precise poem mentioned here it's "The River's Tale", by Kipling, a fun read if you ever thought to yourself "how can I combine my love of early 20thcentury poetry and my hardcore passion for history"? Well there it is, you're very welcome. _

_-I realize it might be weird to use last names for Reid and Prentiss but refer to Delma Jones by her first name; I mostly do it because her first name is kickass. _

_(For etymology freaks out there, Delma is the abbreviation of Fidelma, in Irish folklore she was a warrior princess sometimes also called "the nine times beautiful"). _

_-(C.I.D stands for criminal investigation department)._

_-Someone asked me in the reviews why I don't translate the fics in French. I think I'd feel weird doing this since I've never watched Criminal Minds in its French version, (there are certain things that you can't unhear, and disappointing dubbings of shows you love is one of these things)._


	3. Chapter 3

Reid spent the night in Prentiss' spare bedroom. Although he complimented her apartment, it didn't feel very cozy to him; maybe he was simply being homesick. She did say that she hadn't got around to personalizing the place much, since she spent more time at work than here. Although he had to admit that Garcia hadn't been lying about the view, it was fantastic.

The information Prentiss had asked for came by e-mail the next morning and they reviewed it together.

The stab wounds inflicted to their Thames victim were similar to those found on multiple kidnap-for-ransom victims in Colombia.

"Most of the victims were tourists and foreign workers. A finger or other bodypiece was sent to their bosses or families along with the ransom note", Prentiss grimaced.

"And if the kidnappings turned sour, problems with the ransoms or involvement of the authorities, the victims were found dead", he added.

"Even those who made it had a hell of a time", she remarked, "two of them had to be hospitalized, they presented with signs of torture and sexual assault".

"Those two victims were both young women, the victimology is similar to the London victims".

"It goes beyond the kidnapping for profit; Lester's partner seems to have a type".

"No one was ever arrested for the abductions?", he asked.

"Unfortunately no. Most of the surviving victims were too scared to talk and the investigation was derailed by police corruption and intimidations on the part of the kidnappers. But I have a list of who might have been involved. Two of them are in jail, one died a few weeks ago. That leaves only one possible unsub", Prentiss explained, "Carlos Moreno".

The material they were given on him wasn't very reassuring. As far as they could see he'd been a member of various drug cartels throughout most of his life, and suspected of many violent crimes.

"This guy fits the alpha male profile to a T. He's the complete opposite of the partner Lester took for the robberies last year. Why would she associate herself with him?", Prentiss wondered.

"I don't know, South America seems to be the only thing they have in common. Moreno is a sexual predator and a sadist. Lester doesn't take pleasure in inflicting physical pain and frankly she's too smart to partner up with someone that messy".

"Maybe that's why there were no signs of torture or rape with Sarah Grimes. She might have ordered him to finish her quickly and efficiently", she offered.

"That's bound to create friction. Moreno isn't the submissive type and he has very different motivations, whatever agreement they might have, it won't hold long".

They couldn't discuss those new elements at length since Prentiss had to get to work. While Reid couldn't accompany her, (it probably wasn't a good idea for him to appear in front of agents whose main job was to track down fugitives), she assured him that she would stay on top of the case and keep digging.

* * *

The burner phone he had bought at the airport on his arrival, rang a few minutes after she left.

"Singapore, Bahrain, Hong Kong", he heard Delma say on the other end.

"What?".

"That's as far as we could track the money trail. We couldn't follow the ransom any further", she explained.

"I know that. I was waiting for you to elaborate".

"Oh. Well I asked a friend from Serious Fraud to keep an eye out for money transfers following the same path. I was hoping to be better prepared in case we get another kidnapping", she said.

"Is that legal?", he asked suspiciously.

"He owed me a favor", she said, somewhat ignoring his question, "as it turns out, a similar transfer was made after the first girl died but before the second disappeared. And it was for the exact same amount".

"You think we're missing a victim?", Reid asked, following her reasoning.

"I think someone was taken before Allison Moore, yes".

"After the first victim's death, I can imagine the parents not reporting the kidnapping to the police", he said, hoping it didn't sound accusatory.

"That's what I was thinking".

"We need to find her", he said, "I know Allison couldn't remember anything but it's always worth a shot".

"I'm working on it. Can you meet me somewhere?".

* * *

He took a cab to the address she'd given him; it corresponded to a coffee shop on a quiet street. He went in and sat across from Delma. This morning, her flaming hair was tied in a long ponytail; she was poring over the documents she had spread all over the table.

"What, no tea?", he joked, recognizing the familiar smell of coffee emanating from her cup, "considering each person in the U.K consumes about 2kg of tea per year I find that somewhat surprising".

"Yeah well I need a bigger brain boost, tea just doesn't do it for me", she said.

"Actually, tea leaves contain more caffeine than coffee beans, so as long as you don't dilute your tea with too much milk and use enough leaves, it's really just as effective if not more", he explained.

"Really?", she said, genuinely interested.

"Yeah. Plus coffee tends to dehydrate you faster so ultimately you just feel tired more quickly. What did you wanna show me?", he asked.

"I found her", she replied, "our missing victim. I couldn't identify the person who made the money transfer. So I went through police reports and medical records that involved teenage girls filed during the specific time-window. Her name's Vickie Paterson. Her best friend called the police after Vickie disappeared from the car park of a club. The friend said she went out to smoke a cigarette and never came back. The parents called the next day to say that Vickie came home, that she was alright and had simply spent the whole night partying at another club".

"They lied, I'm assuming".

"She was being seen for minor injuries at a local hospital when her parents called, it corresponds to the kind of injuries you'd get by being knocked out and dragged into a car. Not to mention the fact that she hasn't been back to school or seen any of her friends since she came back".

"Trauma", Reid nodded, "and she fits the victimology. We should definitely talk to her".

Looking up from the files he saw her putting on her coat.

"Where are we going?", he asked, getting up and following her out.

"Vickie's parents have been avoiding my calls, but Mr. Paterson's secretary told me where I could find him", she said, pointing to the location across the street.

"A gentlemen's club?", he said, crossing the street with her and almost getting run over for looking on the wrong side of the road, "I didn't even know those still existed, it feels like something from a different age".

"That's rather hypocritical coming from a man whose country still stubbornly refuses to adopt the metric system", she laughed as they entered.

* * *

_(I didn't mean to imply that all British people are completely obsessed with tea. But last time I went to London, I flew British Airways and the flight attendant passed five times with the tea trolley. Which I thought was endearingly absurd for a two hour flight)._


	4. Chapter 4

Talking to Vickie's father had ultimately been a waste of time. After spending the first five minutes of the conversation denying that anything even happened, he finally told them that his daughter had been deeply affected by the abduction and that he wouldn't make her go through a questioning that would bring everything back.

It took a lot of finagling for him to even take Delma's card to give to Vickie.

Reid spent the following couple of days, anxiously waiting by the phone, hoping for some new developments, and felt both excited and profoundly sad to learn of another abduction.

They assembled quickly outside the latest victim's job, trying to make sense of this new element.

"I don't get it", Prentiss said, "they usually go for the private school types, kids from moneyed families whose parents will be able to pay the ransom. This is pretty far off script".

Their new victim, Lora Norman, was a 16year-old dropout working as a part-time waitress.

"We did say Lester's partner had much different urges", Reid pointed out, "Moreno probably wouldn't care about her social status".

"You think their partnership has fallen apart?", Prentiss asked.

"Not necessarily, she might have voluntarily let him take control for this kidnapping, to insure his loyalty somehow", he said.

"That's a line she never crossed before. She lives for control, allowing her partner to pick the victim and deviate from the M.O is highly uncharacteristic for her", she said, "and that means we probably won't get a ransom note this time".

Delma joined them, phone in hand: "I just got a call from Vickie Paterson. She heard there was another kidnapping. She wants to talk to us now".

"I need to brief the Met on this", Prentiss said, "you guys go ahead and keep me posted, okay?".

* * *

They drove to the Paterson's penthouse in the City, Vickie's father sat them down in the living room with her; he had first intended to stay in the room while they interviewed her, but he eventually excused himself when it became obvious that his daughter felt more comfortable opening up without him around.

"I'm not sure what you expect me to say. I'd like to help, I just don't remember anything", Vickie said, wringing her hands.

"Don't feel bad about it, the other girl couldn't recall anything either", Delma said kindly.

"What's the last thing you remember?", Reid asked.

"Stepping out of the club for a cigarette, but even that is blurry".

"Can you do me a favor and close your eyes?", he asked, "try to concentrate only on the sound of my voice".

She hesitated, unwilling to put herself in a position of weakness where she would be unaware of her surroundings; it was always an issue for trauma victims they questioned. But she nodded and slowly closed them.

"You remember leaving the club, right? How does it feel outside? Cold?", he asked.

"Freezing", she smiled a little, "I've left my coat inside".

"Ok, good, what do you do next?".

"Take out my cigarettes. I'm about to light one, but then this woman comes up to me", she said.

"What does she look like?".

"I don't know…White, dark hair… Pretty I guess…She asks me for a light, I look for it in my bag, and when I look up I see she's got…this nosebleed she didn't know she had. So I told her, and when she asked me for a tissue, I turned around a bit, looking for one".

"And then?", Delma said encouragingly.

"I don't remember much else", she said, tears falling down her cheeks, "I know I fell down afterwards, and then…I don't know".

"It's okay, you've given us a lot already", he said.

"I wasn't even supposed to be out that night. I sneaked out, I shouldn't have. It would never have happened if I hadn't", she said, in tears.

"We have reason to believe that the kidnappers target specific victims, I don't think there's anything you could have done to prevent it", he explained, awkwardly.

"You've helped a lot Vickie", Delma said, squeezing her hand, "thank you for talking with us".

* * *

"You know, nosebleeds can be symptomatic of a lot of things, it's usually benign in most cases, but it can also be a sign of organ failure, blood diseases, intranasal tumors…the list goes on", Reid ranted as soon as they left the building.

"You think Lester's sick?", the inspector asked.

"It would explain why she chose Moreno as her partner and allowed him to be in charge on the last abduction. If she's growing weaker she might need to rely on him for physical tasks and be forced to relinquish some control too".

"Doc?", Delma suddenly said, "look at that".

She pointed to an envelope left under the windscreen wiper of her car. Reid opened it and read the note to her: _"You hope to beat me. I tell you that you will never beat me. If you are clever enough to bring destruction upon me, rest assured that I shall do as much to you"._

"What does it mean?", she asked.

"It's a quote from Conan Doyle. Something Moriarty says to Holmes in one of his stories".

"I recognized the passage", she said, "I meant what does she _mean_ by it? That the only way for you to stop her is through mutual destruction?".

"I think the note in itself is what matters, rather than the words", he said, slightly surprised that she got the reference, "she's showing me that she knows I'm here and that she's watching".

"You can't ignore the fact that Moriarty eventually throws Holmes off a raging waterfall, that note seems pretty hostile to me".

"Holmes survived", he simply said.

"He wasn't supposed to", she persisted, "the author was pressured to bring the character back, but he had meant for him to sacrifice himself and die for the greater good".

He was sincerely touched by Delma's concern but his mind was entirely focused on finding the missing girl alive and stopping Lester from doing more harm, and he felt that the literary debate they were getting into was rather pointless since there was nothing he could do about the threats.

He pocketed the note and got on the passenger seat, not quite meeting her eye.

* * *

They met up with Prentiss in her office as the agency was deserted at this time of night.

"So I called Garcia on the DL, and after a quick hack into the government's HMO database she told me that Lester was diagnosed with a cancerous nasopharengeal tumor a year ago, before she quit her job and went on a rampage", she said.

"Was she put on a particular treatment?", Delma asked, "we could try and track her through her medication".

"The tumor was inoperable, the doctor recommended chemo but she never showed up to her next appointment, and so far there's no papertrail that indicates she underwent any treatment either here or in the U.S. But according to her doctor, the chemo wouldn't have given her more than two years. I'm amazed she's still alive considering the prognosis that was given to her".

"Lester's disease might explain her actions. Patients suffering from a terminal illness sometimes engage in high-risk behaviors when they learn their days are numbered", he said as Prentiss excused herself to answer a call.

"How long do you think Lora Norman has?", Delma asked in a whisper.

"It's hard to say. Without a ransom demand with a clear deadline there's no telling how long they might keep her", he replied, "but if they had killed her we would have found the body already".

"I know…But I find it hard to hope that they keep her for as long as possible knowing what Moreno did to his victims", she sighed.

He nodded; he knew that even if they somehow managed to find the girl alive, she'd never be the same again.

Prentiss re-entered the room, making them jump a little.

"They found Lora Norman's body", she said sadly.


	5. Chapter 5

They watched as the body was pulled out of the water and laid onto a stretcher. The coroner was already confirming Moreno's M.O. There were signs of torture and multiple abrasions seemed to suggest sexual assault.

There was something incredibly bleak about the whole scene; although it was now morning, the sky was a dull gray and the rain had started again, which forced the police officers and pathologists to protect the victim and evidence under large black umbrellas.

But most of the uniforms on the ground were busy keeping the press at a distance.

"I can't believe those guys", Prentiss said as she watched reporters craning their neck to get a picture of Lora's body, "they're even worse than those we have back home".

"Yeah, calling this lot 'journalists' is a bit of a stretch", Delma nodded, "tomorrow they'll be trying to get an up-skirt shot of some random celebrity with exactly the same enthusiasm".

As Prentiss walked away to talk to the coroner, Reid ran his hands over his eyes and through his hair, he was getting a migraine that he knew this time to be purely psychosomatic. Bodies were piling up and he was no closer to Lester or her partner than he was back in Mexico despite the physical proximity.

"We're too late again. We're always two steps behind", he said.

"No. Don't get all fatalistic now", she said, hearing the exhaustion and frustration in his voice, "it's the second girl I watch being pulled out of the river. I intend it to be the last so I need you to give me your hundred percent".

"There's nothing in the evidence…".

"Forget the evidence", she firmly said, cutting him off mid-sentence, "you're always hoping for them to leave something behind. Trust your instincts, you know them, you understand their dynamics, what does it tell you?".

"Lester's sick, she's getting weaker. And that's why there's a power shift in the duo. Which means it's possible that Moreno killed Lora and disposed of her body on his own", he said at fast speed.

"Okay", she said encouragingly, picking up on his newfound energy.

"He would have chosen the dumpsite on his own too", he added, "all the other victims were returned or dumped to the same location they were abducted from. But he might not have taken the same precautions with Lora. They were all previously left in alleyways, narrow streets. This victim was dumped in a very residential area".

"Could that tell you where she was held?", she asked.

"Normally you'd need more than one murder to build an accurate geographical profile. But he's not that careful and he's unfamiliar with the city. He might have dumped her close to where he kept her. They could be staying in this general area".

"Do you have any idea how many people that include?", she sighed.

"Based on the fact that London has an average of 12,331 habitants per square mile, and if we extend the search to a 3 miles radius, it would include approximately 345,268 potential suspects", he replied immediately.

"Okay", she laughed, impressed, "so, any idea on how to narrow it down?".

"It's gonna take a while, but we can look at the neighborhood and try to pinpoint their location that way. We know that they need a place with a lot of room, where they could keep the girls without being heard or noticed. Maybe somewhere with a basement or an attic. I could try to go through property records, look for anything that might stand out".

"Right. Well I think I'll join the constables going door to door, looking for witnesses. Call me if you find anything".

* * *

Reid spent the following hours in Prentiss's apartment, sitting cross-legged on her wooden floor, going through files, occasionally typing a name or location into a database, coloring something on a map of London he found lying around or getting up to feed Sergio.

He was looking for homes recently purchased or rented in the particular zone where Lora's body was found. It hadn't been effective so far, their unsubs were probably using cash to avoid any paper trails. Delma hadn't been in touch with him, so she was probably hitting dead-ends too.

He finally took a break when he heard Prentiss coming home. It immediately worried him since he wasn't expecting her this early, the look on her face didn't do much to lessen his apprehension.

"What happened?", he asked, getting up.

She shook her head, and without a word, handed him an envelope. It was addressed to him again and was very similar to the one they had found the previous day.

Inside it were multiple polaroid pictures. In the first one, Delma was strapped to a chair, there was blood in her hair from a possible blow to the head; she was holding today's newspaper.

The other pictures had been taken over the last few days, they all showed him with Delma: coming out of the coffee shop, both facing the Thames the day they met, or discussing the case at the latest crime scene. Reid hadn't realized at the time that someone was watching them.

"Police found her car abandoned, the window on the driver side was broken, I think her head probably shattered it in the struggle", Prentiss explained, "they found the photos on the dashboard".

Her phone rang, interrupting her. She picked it up and he heard her brief someone on the situation, probably someone from Scotland Yard or INTERPOL.

Looking back at the photographs he was struck by how relaxed he looked in all of them, especially considering how somber and uptight he's been lately. In all of them they seemed to be smiling or laughing at what the other had just said.

Reid said many times that serial killers made the best profilers. Lester had been following them and she apparently saw something there that he had been barely aware of himself.

She knew how much her abduction would affect him and this was her way to go out with a bang. If she was going to die anyway, she might as well inflict maximum pain upon him on her way out.

There was something about the picture of Delma holding the newspaper that didn't sit right with him. He couldn't quite put his finger on it.

The photograph was very similar to those sent to the victims' parents, down to the newspaper she was holding. Today's issue was coincidentally covering the very murders they were investigating.

If the message here was that Delma was about to meet the same fate, it was painfully effective.

"Delma's phone just turned back on", Prentiss said after hanging up.

"Where?", he asked instantly.

She showed him the location on her smartphone. The signal was a little red dot a few streets away, in an apartment building. He noticed that the location was both far away from the zone he had highlighted on his map and probably didn't have the kind of space and isolation to keep someone captive.

"Let's go", he said firmly, not mentioning his doubts to Prentiss.

"Whoa, wait a second", she said, taken aback, stopping him before he reached the door, "I need to get clearance from Scotland Yard first, to obtain a task force".

"Emily that would take too much time, they could get rid of her any second, or she could be being tortured as we speak".

"I'm just as worried as you are Reid, but you know Lester's not sloppy. She always abandons the victim's phone at the abduction scene. This is just a way to get you out in the open".

"Look at those", he said waving the polaroids, "she could have killed me any time she wanted. But she wouldn't take pleasure in shooting me or blowing me up now. She wants me to suffer. My best guess is Delma's already dead and that the only thing we'll find there is her body. But until that happens there's still a chance that she might be alive, only it's getting less and less probable with each second we spend talking about it".

They looked at each other. Prentiss felt a fire in him that she only saw once, a few years ago, when he was trying to convince her that exchanging Doyle for his son was the only option they had. And although it was the only possible outcome, it had ended with a bloodbath and a congressional hearing.

"Are you with me?", he asked.

And hearing the determination in his voice she forgot all her misgivings, only thinking of the nine years or so of trust, teamwork, and friendship that he embodied.

She went to her bedroom and came back with a box, retrieved from the bottom drawer of her dresser.

Inside were two handguns, two holster belt clips.

The remnants of her old life.


	6. Chapter 6

They felt that the quieter their approach was the better. Since they had the nasty feeling that they were doing exactly what Lester expected them to, they hoped to retain the element of surprise by parking at a distance and stealthily entering the building.

They showed Lester's picture to the building attendant, he recognized her immediately, (she was his only tenant who insisted on paying her rent on a week-to-week basis), and he gave them her apartment number, something that the signal coming from Delma's phone couldn't tell them with precision.

Coming out of the elevator they drew their weapons and silently approached the door at the end of the hallway, to finally position themselves on each side of it.

Prentiss gave him a quick glance to make sure he was ready, as she was about to kick down the door, but he held up a hand to stop her as he realized that the door was already slightly ajar. They shared a look. That careless gesture was unsettling to them, they became painfully aware of the foolishness of their complete lack of back-up and of the amount of danger they were in. But there was no turning back now.

Taking a deep breath he nodded, and she pushed the door open.

FBI training and experience kicked in as they split up to clear each room. Kitchen, living-room and bathroom were all empty, but the silence and the lack of any apparent ambush made them both a little jumpy.

They reached the bedroom together, Prentiss pushed the door open with her foot and they entered a very large room with a four poster bed against one wall. On the other side of the room was a small sitting area, with a liquor cabinet, a coffee table and two leather armchairs. Melinda Lester just happened to be sitting in one of them.

She hadn't flinched when they came in; in fact she looked almost bored, barely giving a glance to the two guns pointed at her. Evidently she had been waiting for them, adopting what she thought was her most dignified, most uncaring pose, a drink in one hand, passing the other elegantly through her short, brown hair.

"It's about time, I turned this thing on ages ago", she said, pointing to Delma's phone on the coffee table, "help yourself to a drink, take a seat".

"Where is she?", he asked, not lowering his weapon.

"Oh she's of no importance, she's a means to an end", she said icily.

"A means to an end?", he repeated.

"She's a pawn, Dr. Reid! Do you play chess?", she asked, "you probably do. You see, the surprising thing about pawns is that they are the most expendable pieces, and yet they can take down kings given the right situation".

"And I'm the king in that scenario?", Reid asked, frustrated by how elusive the conversation was getting.

"Of course you are", she said, putting down her empty drink, "look at yourself. You found me; you can arrest me, you can put a bullet through my head right now, and I'm sure you desperately want to, but you'll never find the inspector alive, that's rather the Pyrrhic victory for you, isn't it?".

Prentiss turned to Reid, making sure that he had Lester under control, although she wasn't exactly hard to contain, and holstered her weapon : "I'm gonna search the place, maybe I can find something here about a second location".

"She's wasting her time", Lester sighed, watching her as she left the room, "but it's better this way, isn't it? Our little game of cat and mouse is coming to an end; it's only fair that I should share my last moments with you".

"Your last moments?", he repeated confused.

"You should be flattered, you finally get to see the real me", she said slowly, "no alias, no disguise, no elaborate lie this time. Frankly, I feel almost naked".

She gave him a flirtatious smile that immediately turned into a grimace, as she winced, falling over and onto the floor. Reid comprehended immediately what she had done; he took her empty glass and instantly recognized the bitter almond smell of cyanide.

He dropped it and crouched down next to her, trying to make eye contact with her but she was already going into a seizure.

"Where is Delma? Where did Moreno take her?", he asked frantically, knowing that full cardiac arrest was imminent.

He asked the same questions over and over, but she either ignored him or was in no condition to answer. She stopped moving after a while and simply looked at him, expectantly; he came a little closer to catch her last breath: "It was fun, wasn't it?", she said, before closing her eyes.

* * *

They had searched the whole apartment for clues but had to resign themselves to the fact that there was nothing there that would point them to another location. Lester had always meant to take this piece of knowledge to the grave.

While Prentiss called a coroner and a forensics team Reid sat on the edge of the bed, feeling utterly defeated. The adrenaline was leaving his body, and the exhaustion was now hitting him full force.

He knew that Lester's body alone would serve as proof of his innocence in the Valencia murder, but clearing his name wasn't such a priority with Delma missing and Moreno free to keep on killing.

He half-mindedly took out the polaroid and examined it again. Delma was probably being kept in a basement based on the background behind her and the lack of any natural light in the snapshot. She had never been in this apartment; he shouldn't have wasted time following the signal from her cellphone.

And as he scrutinized the photograph he finally saw the thing that had been unconsciously bothering him since the moment he first looked at the picture. Sometimes his brain would perceive patterns without him being able to tell what they were or what they meant.

"Emily?", he said, more calmly than he felt, "do you have today's paper?".

"I think I have it in my car. Why?".

"Look at the way she's holding it", he said, handing her the photograph, "there's something odd about it".

Delma had placed her fingers on each side of the newspaper, but they were all positioned at angles that felt impractical and unnatural.

They rushed to Prentiss's car to have a look at the actual issue, hoping to see something on it that wasn't obvious in the tiny picture.

Prentiss watched him compare the two, looking both hopeful and uncertain. He knew he was grasping at straws but he also had that familiar feeling, the one he gets when he knows he's making the right connections.

"Hampstead", he simply said after scanning the entire page.

"What about Hampstead?", Prentiss asked.

"Her right index finger is blocking the 'l' of the word 'lamp' in this article, the left one is covering the last part of the word 'steadily', he explained.

"You think she's trying to tell us where she is?", Prentiss asked, unconvinced.

"I think it's the only lead with have, and Hampstead is in the right zone as far as the profile goes".

"We need to narrow it down; we can't go knocking on every door in this area".

"Lester always chose places that had meaning to her", he said at high speed, "she had previously lived in all the cities she robbed, then obviously South America, and then she came back to London where she went to school…"

"I'm gonna call Garcia, she created a timeline of Lester's past, she might find some connection", she said as they both got into her car.

* * *

Driving around, they noticed that it was a highly residential area and that some of the houses had the intimacy and isolation that was required for holding women captive.

"We have a precise address", Prentiss said, hanging up and making a sharp turn, "Garcia found a house in the neighborhood that Lester's parents rented for the summer, that was back in 2002".

They drove well above the speed limit all the way to the house and barely exchanged a word until they arrived.

They quietly walked around the house to confirm that there weren't any other exits and finally both entered through the front door, Prentiss expertly picking the lock.

They found themselves in a darken entrance hall, where each shadow looked like a potential enemy, but weapons drawn, they continued.

She pointed to the stairs, indicating that she'd take upstairs; he nodded and proceeded on his own.

He entered the living room, where something immediately caught his eye, the room was plunged into semi-darkness but something on the ground was emitting a faint glow. He picked it up and realized it was a tablet connected to a video feed. He recognized the images on the screen; they showed different views of the outside perimeter around the house. Evidently Moreno had been keeping an eye on the CCTV system and had seen them coming.

He dropped the tablet suddenly as he heard screams outside. He carefully crossed the room, approaching the French windows that had been left open. A few feet away, in the dim light coming from the street, two people were thrashing about in the swimming-pool. He immediately recognized Moreno, his back turned to him, forcefully pushing the other person's head underwater. He got a glimpse of long strands of bright red hair just under the surface and reacted immediately: "Stop!", he screamed, stepping through the French windows and pointing his weapon at him.

Moreno's reaction was instantaneous; he drew a handgun from the waistband of his jeans and fired in his general direction. It missed him and shattered the window behind him.

Reid didn't wait for him to adjust his aim. '_Front sight, trigger press, follow through', _he briefly thought as he fired.

He ran to the pool as Moreno was thrown backward. He was slowly sinking to the bottom after taking a bullet to the heart.

When Reid reached the edge of the pool he saw another shape at the bottom, after a few seconds of silence he jumped in.

His heart was beating so fast it was almost deafening. The water was dark and bitter cold and it took him a while to locate Delma. His eyes burning from the icy water and the chlorine, he felt his way through it all and finally closed his fingers around her wrist; he put an arm around her waist and kicked the ground with all the strength he had left.

He reached the surface and with great difficulty due to Delma's dead weight, started to swim to the edge of the pool. Prentiss came running towards him. She holstered her weapon and helped him get her out of the pool. They laid her down on the deck and Prentiss gently put a hand to Delma's neck.

"Reid, I can't find a pulse!", she said, unnerved.

"We need paramedics", he panted.

"They're already on their way".

They started CPR on her. Reid was counting chest compressions in his head; desperately trying not to think about the statistics on emergency reanimation that he knew weren't particularly encouraging.

"What are you doing?", he frantically asked Prentiss as she stopped breathing air into Delma's lungs.

"We're not getting anything", she replied, "it's been too long".

He took her place, alternating compressions and mouth-to-mouth. It had been his vendetta and yet she was the one Lester took. Reid knew that the moment he stopped it would really be over and her death would be his fault.

"Reid...", Prentiss said with great sadness.

He turned to her, to explain why he couldn't possibly give up, but he didn't get the chance, he felt Delma's head turn to the side as she sputtered and coughed.

Immensely relieved, he put a hand to her throat to check her heart-rate again but Delma slapped it away, disoriented and frightened, she struggled for a while, like she had done in the pool a few minutes ago when she'd been gasping for air, trying to keep her head above the surface.

After a few seconds she regained her bearings and hugged him tight. Taken by surprise he nearly fell backward. He awkwardly patted her back and they sat there, shivering, as sirens from ambulances and police cars grew closer.


	7. Chapter 7

Delma's doctors insisted on admitting her for a few days, much to her annoyance. Moreno had a distinct preference for young girls and had therefore left her alone during her captivity, but he did break her right arm in two places when they fought in the pool and she had to undergo orthopedic surgery. She was also treated for a concussion and various cuts and bruises that she received at the moment of her abduction.

Throughout those few days, she received flowers and other get-well gifts from her co-workers, each time she instructed the nurse to redistribute them to other patients who might actually enjoy them; they had all deserted her when she was taken off the case and she wasn't going to let them off the hook easily.

It made Reid feel incredibly grateful for the friends he had, who he knew for sure would never quit on him.

He was finally breathing again, he actually felt lighter; as if some heavy weight had finally been lifted off his shoulder. He looked forward to a certain return to normalcy, to seeing the team, to talking to his mother and to all kinds of risk-free, ordinary things.

But above all, nothing made him happier than visiting Delma. He would stop by to argue over which country had the best something or other, to share her Jell-O, or really just to chat. He was pleased to see that every book he brought to help her pass the time was well received, although he felt that she might have already read some of them.

She never asked why he was stopping by so often and always looked delighted to see him.

* * *

Prentiss came home with excellent news one day when she told him that he was completely cleared; the DNA taken from Lester's body corresponded to the blood she deliberately left at the crime scene after killing her husband.

"Even Cutler had to see reason, he dropped all charges against you", she smiled broadly, "the team can't wait to have you back. Hotch hired someone to fill Blake's position but there's still an open spot, they never really looked for your replacement".

Reid smiled faintly and looked down. Just a few days ago he would have given everything to clear his name and get back to the BAU. Somehow he thought he'd been more excited about it.

"Something's wrong?", she asked, noticing the underwhelming response to her announcement.

"No, nothing's wrong", he lied, smiling wide too, "I just didn't think it would get fixed so quickly I guess…".

"You know…You don't have to go back this instant", she said slowly, as if reading his thoughts, "I could always tell Hotch to hold on to your badge a little longer".

"I don't know", he said hesitantly, "with the way I left and everything…I should really get the first flight back, otherwise I think Garcia would never speak to me again".

"Oh I'm sure they'll all understand", she said confidently.

"Yeah?".

"Oh absolutely, I think they'll even beg you to stay a while longer once I tell them you found someone here you _fancy_", she joked, emphasizing the last word with an exaggerated British accent.

He denied it, but his stammering and obvious discomfort didn't make him very convincing.

"Alright, whatever you say. But you know when people say it's what you _don't_ do in life that you end up regretting? It's a cliché but it's probably true", she said, walking away.

* * *

"You know I don't need an escort, I could probably manage on my own", Delma protested as they left the hospital.

He had insisted on walking a little further down the street with her to the spot where she said she could hail a cab. But he was starting to regret it as she had been moody ever since she'd been discharged and, not being able to figure out why, he was starting to wonder if she wasn't simply growing tired of him.

"Well I want to stay on your good side otherwise who will show me around the city?", he laughed nervously.

"Don't stay for my benefit", she said, a little gloomy, "you should go home. Enjoy your freedom, you've finally been exonerated".

He nodded silently but then stopped right in his tracks, processing what she just said.

"Wait, you knew?", he asked, astonished.

"Of course I knew", she laughed, "I'd be pretty lousy at my job if I hadn't researched you before we partnered up. And really for a profiler you're pretty transparent, I knew you were in trouble the second I saw you".

"But, why didn't you say anything then?".

"When we met I had just been put on mandatory leave and the press was accusing me of 'gross negligence', I guess I didn't think I was in any position to judge", she sensibly said.

"But…Weren't you freaked out? I could have been dangerous, what if I had been guilty after all?".

"I took a chance on you", she shrugged.

He stared at her, both baffled by her recklessness and moved by the leap of faith she took for him. Her eyes were sparkling and she was beaming, clearly amused by his confusion. Trying to recall everything Morgan ever told him about "the signal" and about properly reading social cues, he took a leap of faith as well. Somehow more nervous than he had ever felt this past year, he came closer, and, careful not to lean on her injured arm, he kissed her.

When they finally came apart, (it could have lasted five seconds or five galactic years, he just wasn't sure of anything anymore), she laughed again, probably at how stunned he looked. He wasn't sure what was more surprising to him, the kiss itself or his own incredible bravado.

She gently took his hand and got him moving again. Walking arm in arm with her he couldn't help but wonder if he could guilt the FBI into giving him more vacation days once he gets back.

Because he might just get used to this.

* * *

**END **

* * *

_Nothing is better than a journey to explore all the wonderful aspects of the unexpected._

Joan Bodon

* * *

_(I promised myself I wouldn't end this into a mushy mess but what can I say? I must be in a good mood, or maybe I just wanted Reid to have a happy ending for once._

_I know someone in the reviews was hoping for a Reid/Prentiss hook-up but I always felt they had a big sister/little brother kind of dynamics and that just sounded weird in my mind. Plus the lack of inter-team romance is one of the things I like about the show._

_Thanks for reading and reviewing, and for caring even just a little bit about where this was all going._

_I hope this second part was entertaining, and if it wasn't, I blame it on the fact that all sequels suck anyway. _

_Either way I'd love some feedback)._


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